


As Was the Style at the Time

by Aris Merquoni (ArisTGD)



Category: 14th Century CE RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, Fingering, Fluff, Gender Play, Medieval clothing porn, Multi, Penis Envy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 23:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5516510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArisTGD/pseuds/Aris%20Merquoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne and Robert decide to compare the fashions of the day. In Richard's bedchamber. In private.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Was the Style at the Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angevin2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angevin2/gifts).



"You know," Robert said, brushing his hair over his shoulders and reaching for the cap Anne had chosen for him, "This was a terrific idea."

Anne felt herself blush. It was strange enough thing she was doing, stranger still to be doing it with Robert de Vere, and though it had been _her_ idea she was starting to wonder if she should tell him she'd changed her mind and command an end to this performance. But Robert knew her husband, at least as well as she did--in some ways better than she did, which was enough to make her lift her chin and smile. "Let me pin that on for you," she offered.

Robert smiled impishly and sat down on a stool, careful of the skirts of the gown he was wearing. It was one of Anne's favorites, a fitted overgown of blue wool over a cream-colored silk kirtle, both warmly trimmed with vair and embroidered with gold thread.

Robert's hosen were a rich red, and a little tight on Anne's legs; they had itched a little when she pulled them on, but he'd helped her smooth them over her legs and tie them to the belt above her breeches. Well, Robert's breeches, but they were snug around her hips, now, and his shirt and doublet pressing her breasts flat. He'd buttoned the richly embroidered silk onto her without taking any liberties, chaste about her person as her chambermaid. She'd attempted the same as she dressed him, slipping her chemise over the smooth skin of the man her husband embraced, trying to keep herself from tracing with her fingers the places Richard must have touched: the bumps of his ribs visible when he stretched his arms above his head, the inviting dark circles of his nipples, the wispy curls of dark hair that wound below his navel. And the thick worm of his cock, docile and quiescent even as she adjusted the fall of the linen shift over his narrow hips.

Oh, well; she supposed she would feel the same about a naked woman dressing her. This was for Richard, after all. They both agreed on that.

Robert's hair was dark and thick but very fine, and it resisted being twisted and bound. Anne wound half a dozen pins through the jeweled mesh over his ears before she was satisfied. He primped a bit when she was done, then grinned at her, a flash of teeth under his mustache.

They didn't look too odd, she thought as he stood and picked up her looking glass to regard himself. He was taller than she was, and her gown showed an indelicate amount of calf on him, her short hosen stretched taught over his milky sinews. He'd supplied his own garters, which were fancier than hers, ribboned in purple silk. With no curves to speak of he made a slender lass, alike enough in color to be a gawky older sister, save the hair on his lip.

Anne supposed she made a fashionable enough courtier in red and bronze. The doublet was somewhat loose around her waist, but snug at the hip. She ran her hands down her front, smoothing the fabric, and when Robert smirked and held the glass up for her she was surprised to see herself a fit young man, somewhat short of stature but possessing a well-fleshed leg. She turned a bit, eyeing the line of her seat in the mirror, and Robert chuckled. "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity," he chided her.

"Do you think it's all right?" she asked, ignoring him.

"You look almost good enough to fuck," Robert said, saucily running his hand over her rear and pinching.

She batted at his hand. "You're a lady, remember," she said. "Try to act like one."

"And you're a gentleman," he said, bowing, then awkwardly turning the move into a curtsy when she pouted at him. "So act like one."

Anne studied him for a moment. "I believe I understand," she said.

She didn't give him time to resist, but pulled his face onto hers, wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed him against her. He resisted briefly, then chuckled deep in his chest and kissed her back, with enthusiasm if not true passion.

Anne must have heard the door open, but she didn't really notice it until it swung shut again, and she broke off the kiss to see Richard, her dear darling Richard, standing just inside the doorway looking puzzled.

She shared a glance with Robert, who was grinning, and said, "Hello, darling."

"I know that other men have come home to find their wife in the embrace of their dear friend," Richard said, "But I feel as though normally the tableau they find presented is less perplexing."

Robert laughed. "We wanted to surprise you."

"You succeeded." Richard tilted his head, regarding them through narrowed eyes. "I hardly know what to do with the pair of you. Do clothes maketh the man? Or the woman?"

"Or the king?" Robert asked impertinently, gesturing at Richard's gown; the blue silk and gold thread glimmered in the candlelight and made it seem as though he were a painted saint come to life. Though, she suddenly realized with a rush of embarrassed heat, considering what they were doing, thinking on the saints was probably not the best or most pious of courses.

Richard laughed, and set down his kingly bearing if not his raiment. "My doting wife," he said to Robert, and crossed the room to take Robert's face in his hands. Richard kissed him sweetly, gently, and though she had been preparing herself to watch this, Anne felt a part of her heart tremble.

She kept her face calm, resolute, and when Richard turned to her he was beaming. She couldn't help but smile back at him as he took the two steps that brought him to her side. "And my dear companion," he said fondly, and pulled her into his embrace.

And oh, she had never been kissed by her husband the way he was kissing her now. Richard's arms clenched her passionately, and his mouth was hot and fierce, his tongue lapping at her lips until she gasped and let him in. For a moment, she was overcome, almost frightened, confused--

And then she remembered Robert's earlier instruction to act like a gentleman, and the brazen strength it had given her, and she took her husband's body in her arms, letting her fingers quest for liberties along his spine. He made a lustful sound like she'd wrung it out of him, and his hips thrust against hers, and oh, she'd felt Richard's passion before, but he'd always begun so delicately with her.

They pulled apart, and she rested her forehead against his chest, feeling the shudders of his breathing reverberate through her. "The clothes maketh something," she said, and he laughed.

"Hmm," Robert said, and took Richard's arm. Anne looked up to find him pouting. "Come, husband," he said, and drew them both along to the bed.

Getting out of the unfamiliar clothes was almost as difficult as getting into them, though of course now she had both Robert and Richard to help her. By unspoken agreement they kept up the game even shed of their raiment. Richard lay Robert down and covered him with kisses, tonguing at the tip of Robert's proud cockstand, and then rubbing his fingers between Robert's legs. At first Anne couldn't tell what he was doing, but then as Robert threw his head back and moaned, she understood; this, then, was the action in all its glory, and she was bearing witness as Richard gently held Robert's legs apart and positioned himself as a husband entering his bride, flesh to flesh.

Anne watched as her husband pierced his lover, as Robert's hands reached to caress Richard's back and tousle his golden hair, and wished suddenly that she had a prick of her own to play these games with, that she could join them, join Richard, be flesh of his flesh the way that Robert might--that Robert must have, if the comments that both of them had made coyly in her hearing were true.

Well, then, hadn't Robert told her to take matters into her own hands? She climbed onto the bed behind Richard, careful of his calves and Robert's knees, the awkward collection of limbs making her smile. She pressed her hand gently to Richard's back, and he gasped, then turned to look at her and grinned the happy, boyish smile that always drew her back to him, to love.

Even when he was prick-deep in another man, it seemed. She smiled back, at him, at his seemingly boundless love, at her own audacity, and traced her fingers down the knobs of his spine until she parted the hot globes of flesh at his seat and touched the private place she'd been seeking. Richard inhaled and wiggled back against her fingers, encouraging her.

It was tricky, even with his help, and she was suddenly glad of her nervous habit of biting her nails to the quick. But her finger slipped inside him, and then she had no idea what she was doing. He was hot and slick inside, and he moaned and thrust back against her and then against Robert, and she was connected with the motion, intimate and immediate.

Anne pressed her hand against him, feeling the rhythm of his motion, her fingers sliding slightly as they moved. Richard made enthusiastic noises, moaning both of their names as he thrust, and she could see Robert's gaze go distant and clouded as Richard stirred in him. She was amazed, that it could affect them this much, but she supposed that if the feeling were anything like when Richard bedded her...

Her own desire was burning, twisting low in her belly, and she wantonly stroked her own skin with her free hand, touching where Richard would touch her. She remembered the size of Robert's prick and pressed with a second finger at her husband's rosebud, until he turned his head and said, "Yes, darling, please, don't hesitate now."

Anne twisted her fingers and they sank into him, and Richard lay his head against Robert's and made a throaty noise she'd never heard him make, his long blond hair falling like a curtain over his face. Robert laughed, short of breath, and said, "What a woman you've found, love."

"Oh, yes," Richard gasped, "Oh yes, oh, both of you, yes, love, yes--"

In moments he was spent, shaking in Robert's arms. Anne removed her hand and climbed over their splayed legs to lay beside them, until Richard rolled over and nearly on top of her. By the time they'd all readjusted themselves they were giggling, Robert cuddling Richard from behind and Richard holding her in his arms.

"You've conquered me, both of you," Richard said. "I give in, freely. You have all I have to give."

The part of Anne that was yet unsatisfied had an opinion on that, but the rest of her was content--and patient, and happy to wait for Richard's second wind. Robert's smirk told her that he felt much the same.

"You have all our love," Anne said instead.

"Always," Robert chorused.

"Mmm," Richard said, nuzzling at her hair. "Then conquered vassal or conquering king, I am the happiest man in Christendom, and always shall be."

It had been a wonderful idea, Anne reflected as she lay lazy and warm and loved. She'd have to remember it for later.


End file.
